Date: Thu, 29 Sep 2005 08:21:46 -0700 (PDT)
From: Farrell Mc Nulty
Subject: Detectives Log - Chapter Nineteen - Busted, Bound, Bamboozled Boy
This is Detectives Log, Chapter Nineteen - Busted, Bound, Bamboozled Boy
CHAPTER NINETEEN - Busted, Bound, Bamboozled Boy
EDDIE - I scooted it out to the front area, Chesterton comes up a couple
of minutes later. "Hey, Eddie". I'm as nonchalant as I can be, under the
circumstances. I'm a little flushed from my little escape, I'll write it
off as either bein' a diabetic or asthma or somethin'. "Hey, there, what
can I do for ya?" ""Well, I was wondering if you could help with
something as we close up. I'd like it if you were to deposit the day's
take." "Sure, no problem." "Good, we got the envelopes here, bank's right
down the block, there's a 24-hour deposit box, just toss it in there." As
Chesterton was showin' me the ropes, I notice he just took a handful of
cash, stuck it in the envelope and filled it out. Then, he grabbed the
rest of the cash and was walkin' toward the back. So, I follow him,
knowin' full well he's up to somethin', but makin' like it's part of the
job I need to learn. I do the naive thing pretty well. Fools 'em all. So,
anyways, Chesterton is kinda surprised I follow him. "Oh, I just thought
this was part of closin' ", I said. "It is, in a matter of speaking."
Thinkin' about it for a sec, he says, "oh. okay, what the hell, I'll tell
ya - we stash some what is termed as petty cash, just for day to day
stuff. It also helps on the tax return if we don't deposit everything. We
gotta keep a bit of scratch for ourselves, too, you know." Holy handouts,
I think to myself, so that's why he pays me in cash every day. "But, is
that legal, I mean, wouldn't the feds catch up to ya?" "Hey, what the
hell are you, some kinda cop? HA! Is it legal, he asks me. You really
doubt the hand that feeds you, don't you?" I get all flustered and crap,
"no, no, I was just askin'! I ain't no fed! Honest!" I plead, hoping he
wouldn't smack the crap outta me and somehow bust my wire. Then, I'd
really be hosed. Chesterton gets his act together, "sorry, kid, didn't
mean to get so jumpy. You're a good kid..."
"TALK TO YA, CHESTERTON, NOW!" It's the creepy partner. Chesterton runs
over with the petty cash to his office. I gotta call Mike, but the phone
rings, "too bad ya gotta quit after bein' promoted and all." "I don't
getcha." "We got enough on this crumb, not only did he schtump his
partner over, but he's a tax dodge to boot. Sweet, sweet stuff." I laugh
and kinda whisper, "boy am I glad you called. It was gettin' a little -
OW - dammit!" "Eddie, what's the matter?" "Aw, nothin' just a crick in my
neck, I guess." I reach up to rub the back of my neck as I'm talkin', but
I feel somethin'. Then I start to weaken. I panic, "aw, man, this ain't
no crick - I think - - it's a - - DART!" BAM! I hit the floor, I can hear
the boss man screamin' from the phone!
I told the kid the jig was up, we got everythin' we needed, so no more
bar-bouncin' for this guy. I thought I heard somethin' up in the
background, but blew it off. Eddie starts to tell me somethin', then he
screams. I kept sayin'
"eddie, what's wrong!" Then the kid tells me he's got a dart in his neck
and he falls over, moanin'. What I hear next put the hairs up on my neck.
EDDIE - I'm lyin' on the ground, I can't move except to look up,
wonderin' what's up. Chesterton and his partner come in and shove a piece
of paper in my face. "Chesterton, I'd like to introduce you to one Edward
Robinson, loyal sidekick to one Mike Batz, aka The Dashing Detective." He
turns to me, kicks me in the ribs and says, "it definitely is a dart,
specially timed to keep you immobile for several hours. That'll give us
enough time to lug you outta here and do what we gotta do to you." "What
- - ARE - - ya gonna do to me?" "All in good time, my little pretty
snoop, all in good time." They start draggin' me away and I'm hollerin'
out, and getting punched out, moanin' in pain. Just 'cuz I'm paralyzed
don't mean I can't feel everything. Chesterton hears Mike shoutin' my
name from the phone, so he goes and steps on it, smashin' it.
I'm on the other end, listenin' to Eddie bein' kidnapped and I can't do
nothin' about it, I shout his name then hear some thump, and then I lost
the connection. What the heck is goin' on? Oh, I know what's goin' on. I
just don't wanna think about it.
I put my head in my hands and drop the phone. "Oh, my God, Eddie", I cry,
"what's gonna happen to ya?"
They take me out to the back, get me in the back of some van, grab some
rope and start tyin' me up. I keep sayin' no, no, no, then they get so
pissed off they slam my head up against one of the walls, throwin' me
down on the floor. Man, I cannot stop moanin'. These guys worked me over
good. Then they tore my shirt off revealin' the wire, which they rip so
fast they scratch me a little, making me scream. "Stitches, eh? To think
I actually bought that." He grabs me by my hair and shouts, "thought you
was a good kid, ya prick!" They tie my hands and feet, get out of the
back and head for the front and drive away. Now with my cell phone
smashed, the wire ripped out, I'm all tied up in the back with a dart in
my neck, and I'm thinkin' I had it. I really had it. I start bawlin',
"oh, Boss-man, where the heck are ya?"